


Wash It Away

by seimaisin



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathaniel and Marian share a moment post-DA2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wash It Away

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my May fic challenge, shared with [cherith](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cherith) \- one of us posts a fic on Tumblr every other day for the whole month.

She stood by the stream, still encased in blood-spattered armor, staring at the opposite bank as if it held the answers to all the questions they’d been asking themselves in the last few days. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to stop since they left Kirkwall, Nathaniel knew. The first time she hadn’t been in motion or knocked unconscious by the terrible brew the dwarf had brought along, since … well, since everything.

They were far enough away from Kirkwall to safely stop and rest, but she didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. “Serah Hawke?” Nathaniel said softly, stepping up behind her. “Marian?”

She didn’t turn at the sound of his voice. “We should move on soon,” she said.

“A night of rest will do us all good,” he argued, as each of them had at least once. “The horses are exhausted, as are the people. We have injuries to attend to.”

“But who will attend them?” Marian’s voice was little more than a whisper. 

Nathaniel knew what she meant. Who she meant. It sent a sharp pain through his chest - but, if he ached for the loss of his friend, what must the woman in front of him feel? Nathaniel, after all, hadn’t been the one to wield the blade at the end of Anders’ life. Marian and Anders had disagreed often, Varric had told him, but she still considered him a friend. A friend who had betrayed her trust.

He stepped closer and lay his hand on her shoulder. “You should clean your armor,” he said gently. “We might be coming upon a town soon, and we’re not fit to be seen as we are.”

Marian turned her head. Nathaniel remembered her eyes being a clear blue, dancing with mischief and adventure the first time he met her, down in the Deep Roads. She’d had such an energy, such a presence, that he hadn’t wondered how his old friend had come to follow her around. Truthfully, something about her had made him wish his loyalties didn’t lie elsewhere, that he was free to fall in behind her as well. She was a captivating woman.

Now, though, there was no hint of laughter in her eyes - a storm rolled behind them, held in check only by the blank stare she struggled to maintain. After a long moment of silence, Nathaniel felt her shoulder drop, her body slump on an exhale. “I don’t want to get rid of them,” she said.

“Who?”

“Them.” She gestured down at her body, at the blood and gore that covered her. “They were people. People I knew. Templars I’ve seen in the Gallows courtyard. Mages who served with my sister. People who existed.” She looked back down at her hands, folded in front of her. “Friends.” She looked back up at Nathaniel. “If I wash them away, they’re gone. I don’t … I don’t know that I deserve to be clean, not yet.”

Something tightened in Nathaniel’s chest. “Remember the living,” he said, his hand coming up instinctively to cup her cheek. “Remember those you saved. Regular people in Kirkwall, who might have been slaughtered by abominations if you hadn’t been there. Mages who might have been killed by the Knight-Commander if she’d been allowed to continue - mages like your sister. Yes, you killed. We all did. But many more live because we did.”

“Does that help you? Thinking like that?” 

Nathaniel shrugged. “Not always. But it’s the only thing that ever does, in the end.”

For a moment, Nathaniel imagined that Marian leaned her cheek into his touch. But, just as quickly as he felt it, she stepped away, and her hands fell to the buckles on her armor. He took a step back. “Do you need any help?” he asked.

She looked over at him, one corner of her lips quirked upward. “No, thank you. I think I can do this by myself.”

_You don’t need to_ , Nathaniel thought as he left to rejoin the others. _Not if you don’t want to_.


End file.
